


Auction

by Vang3



Category: Original Work
Genre: M/M, Slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-09
Updated: 2018-06-10
Packaged: 2019-04-20 19:05:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14267592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vang3/pseuds/Vang3
Summary: Taken suddenly. Jacob is now in hell. Will he survive?





	1. Chapter 1

The constant drip was the worst of it. More than the bruises, or even the whiping. God I hated that dripping. The leak, unless it was designed purposefully to torment, was unending. Enduring and steadfast yet always unreachable. Madness had never seemed so welcoming. Every drop took something from me, scraped away a little more of what I once was. I had no idea how long I had been in this cell, if you can call it that. Four walls big enough to hold a small toilet, a sink and little ol me. Oh and my hook, how could I forget about my dear friend Mr. hook. My captor's favourite toy hung above me at all times, taunting, waiting to be used.  
Time is all I have now, and I can't even keep track. At first I had tried counting the days using meals, but my grumbling stomach attested to them not coming frequently. Then I tried the friendly visits from my lovable torturers, but I passed out/was knocked unconscious much to often for that to be reliable. Now I had given up. To be fair I had given up almost immediately as they began the torture. The pain so unbearable and foreign I gave them anything, everything they asked for. All they wanted was pain, and now I could feel my will slipping away. The worst was I knew they could tell. They laughed and mocked me at first but now they watched grinning with knowing smiles that I had lost. All I had left was theirs to take, if only they were patient.  
I learned quickly that pride and anger were useless. Anything they wanted my tormentors took. Any anger was wasted energy I wouldn’t get back, and it show would probably be the cause of my next beating. Despite that I still felt shame at how quickly I had begun to cry and beg. Funny how fast people change under constant abuse.  
The door, a slab of steel that could have found a loving home in any insane asylum or solitary ward creaked open. My eye drifted lazily upward and I saw to my surprise someone new. I had memorized all my previous tormentors. Glasses, Neckbeard, and gold tooth each had their own speciality, leading to my now destroyed spirit and broken body. The lady that walked through the door was...stunning. A designer red dress that hugged her in all that right places, long flowing blond hair and piercing green eyes. Even the way she walked screamed of class and power in stilettos that could kill. A catcall whistle sang through my head, and for a second I allowed myself a small moment of amusement. She was enough to turn any man into water, except the smile. She smiled at me like I was a prized dog, glancing over every inch of my nude body without an ounce of shame. I could feel myself blush, I had enough shame for both of us as I curled tighter into the feeble position that had become my home.  
As I hid from sight I realized that there had been raised voices from outside the door. Obviously irritated another new person entered and looked around with disdain. Just as well dressed as the women, his suit looking straight out of a catalogue, I realized they must be related. The two had nearly the same hair and eye color, their noses coming down to a sharp point, the only thing seeming to distinguish them was their gender.  
"He's perfect." The woman whispered nudging the man.  
"Hmmmm?" the replied eyes finally settling on my prone form. He raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow in my direction. "How on earth can you tell? All I see is a disgusting rat in a corner. Richard!" He called out behind him. "Get in here and lift him up. I want to see what we're supposed to be buying."  
"Oh hush you!", she admonished. "I can already tell he just what we've been looking for." Quickly Neckbeard, who must be Richard, tried to shoulder past the man leading to a small scuffle.  
"Get. Off. Me." The man snarled. "I swear if you ruin this suit you'll be dangling from that hook, entrails first." Richard paled, and I shivered at that tone. Blinking I began to realize what was happening. did he say buying!? I was being sold!? What the fuck, who were they, I was a journalist for Christ sake. I had been in the wrong part of town at the wrong time and saw the wrong thing. I didn't deserve this. Strangely I had been ok with madness or even death just minutes before and now was outraged at the idea of being purchased. As my mind whirled the man quickly backed out.  
"Sorry sir. If you would please jus-just wait out here I'll bring him out." The man who I remembered joyously bringing various whips and canes into my cell, laughing at my screams seemed terrified. The man and woman filed out and Richard walked in bending over to grab me. "Listen here you little shit. You do anything. ANYTHING. To fuck this up and I'll make our previous evenings look like a paradise." Shivering I remembered the whips cutting deep into my back, screaming until I was hoarse, sobs wracking my body as I tried to promise him the world. Anything to end the hell. Nodding fervently I felt him lift up my bruised arms and I mewed quietly in pain. He jerked me to my feet and led me out.  
The two were waiting eagerly in the hallway. Well one eager, the other seemed to think all of this, whatever it was, was beneath him. The woman gasped as I was brought out, and began running her hands over my body. I shuddered and jerked back only to feel the bone crushing grip of Richard on my arm. I bit my lip in agony but the woman didn't seem to notice. To keen on her new, merchandise I guess. The thought rolling my stomach.  
"He's better than perfect. Look at him." The woman gushed.  
"Perhaps, although I would feel better if I could see a section of skin unbruised", the man grunted begrudgingly as he looked at me. I could feel myself blushing under the gaze of the pretty woman and tried to cover myself, the woman immediately squealed.  
"He's so cute! Hell if he doesn't make the cut maybe you can have him Berny, I know he's your type." The woman glanced slyly over at the man who was already shaking his head.  
"No blushing is bad remember, he needs to have lost all shame by this point. But you have a point, underneath that filth the kid might be a winner." He looked over at her with irritation. "And how many times have I told you not to call me that. It's Bernard or nothing. Get it through your skull before tomorrow. I don't want our guests calling me that."  
"Sorry sorry but still this is great I mean just look at his proportions. It's like he was meant to be female, yet has acceptable cock and a nice jawline. He even manages to be cute with the..." The woman just wouldn't stop and I began my own self-hatred pattern again. I knew my body was weird. My body slim and petite, with just enough muscle on my arms to look gaudy on a girl. My proportions as she called it could only be my ass...I hated it. It was the ass any girl would dream of. A perfect bubble but that had led to a life of hell in high school and even the beginning of college. I had dirty blond hair and gray blue eyes of an ocean storm but no one seemed to care about that. I was a piece of meat on the market.  
Zoning back in I saw the man looking at me thoughtfully. Reaching down he grabbed my jaw and I winced in pain as he tilted it left and right. His eyes burning into mine as if determining my worth from something he could see within me.  
"Enough fight left in him to be believable. So that's on our side. Well, you win sis. We were running out of options anyway." Bernard looked over at Richard. "We'll take him." Richard began wringing his hands gleefully until Bernard glanced at me suddenly as if something occurred to him. "That is assuming it speaks."  
"Oh yes yes, of course it does." Richard smacked me on the back of my head hard. "Speak bitch!" Reeling I looked up at the man swallowing.  
"Please", I whispered hoarsely my throat raw and abused. Benard and Richard both began laughing. Assholes.  
"Already half house trained", Bernard chuckled gleefully. "This might actually work out. Alright," Benard let out pulling out a small blue note pad from his suit pocket. "Name, background?  
"Uh lets see, Jacob Rivers, 18, single, no contact from parents and was on the news for," Richard paused head up thinking. "I think it was 3 days maybe 4."  
God I hadn't even lasted a week on the news. I knew i wasn't some blonde teen from a rich neighborhood but I had held out hope that maybe people still cared. Guess not.  
"Good, any relatives still looking for him? And where did you pick him up by the way?" Bernard still writing furiously in his little blue pad.  
"No relatives that we know of they might be out of state and haven't gotten the news yet. Went through the kids phone he doesn't call anyone for weeks at a time. I think we picked him up around the tracks, you'll have to ask Hadden for sure I wasn't out there. Apparently kid lives in the bad side of town and he saw a great opportunity."  
That great opportunity happened to be the biggest mistake of my life. Walking home from another day at the factory I crossed the tracks like any other day only to see somebody struggling underneath a motorcycle calling for help. Apparently it had fallen on him. I hadn't even had time for my usual paranoia. Usually walking home at night I was so careful always checking behind me talking to no one and making sure I ran home most of the way. But seeing the person trapped I ran over to help immediately grabbing the cycle I yanked up with my small 5'3" frame getting up it just enough for the guy to get out. Heaving I looked over to see if he was alright and that was the last I remember. I awoke in my cell and spend the next couple of hours screaming, begging, and sobbing until my voice gave out.  
"Good enough" Bernard said closing up his book. "We'll take him." The woman squealed in delight. Rubbing over my blue and purple chest in her excitement. Pain threatened to overwhelm me but my mind wouldn't stop. She sounded like a teen getting the purse she’d always wanted. Horror took over as I realised I was object to these people. Fear overwhelmed me and tears leaked at the corner of my eyes.  
"Aw poor baby's crying", The blond stroked my now greasy hair. "Don't worry we always take good care of our pets." Disgust took over and I bit into my lip tasting iron. Shuddering I quietly wished I would die.  
"Excellent" Richard completely ignoring the two of us, rubbed his hands together with glee. “Oh”, he turned as if he had forgotten something. “Is he a virgin?”  
My head whipped to him, eyes widened. Wait what?! I wasn’t innocent enough or stupid enough not to realize what he was asking. Suddenly the hope that had been rising in my chest was dashed as I began to understand that my hell might only just beginning. I put it out of my mind shoving the fear and disgust in a place labeled ‘I can’t control’. I had gotten quite good at that recently a lot of my new life got put into that box at sometime or another.  
Richard scoffed, “Believe it or not your in luck. Neither me nor Hadden are into that sort of thing and while our other associate would enjoy that he’s been a little preoccupied with a different side project.” I wondered if that side project had anything to do with the infrequent screams I had heard in my cell.  
Fear gripped me and I played with the idea of escape but I never had a chance. The next few hours passed in a blur as money changed hands and my few meager possessions were handed over to the lady as the Bernard refused to touch any of them as if they might contain some kind of disease. I was bound and gagged with duct tape, my arms and feet heavily bound. It was unnecessary, I don't think I could have moved much anyway in my condition. I was thrown into the back of a van, the cold uneven floor biting into me. Irrational terror took over and I desperately unreasonably wanted to stay. The fear of the unknown making me wish I had said something anything to stay with my previous captors. Tears leaked down my face washing away some of the dirt and grime that had built up as my own self hatred built. I had always hated myself, I was weak, worthless in my own opinion. Every mistake I made in my life compounded my feelings leaving me to believe everything bad that happened was my fault. This most of all. My tears dripped down on the floor until finally, exhausted I fell asleep. 

I awoke in something that I assumed was a dream. For the first time in weeks I was in heaven. Everything even my bruised and broken body could appreciate the soft comfortable bed I was laying in. Slowly, almost afraid I opened my eyes, praying that this wouldn't be taken from me. God I needed this. I was in a Gody pink room that I can only describe as a master suite. It looked like the most lavish hotel room I had ever seen, colored almost entirely in pink. The past day events rushed to me and I couldn't believe I had ever wanted to stay in that hell hole. If this was my new life, gody pink or not I would take it. Looking around I realised everything seemed so big. The master bed, the center of the room towered over me imposingly. Looking down at my bed I was confronted with a lavish dog bed. Conflicting emotions crossed my mind in rapid succession. Degradation and humiliation swiftly followed by determination and bartering. I refused to go back to that hell. I would do anything. I had promised that a million times and more to my previous captors and damn well meant it. Fuck it. If the Beautiful blond wanted a pet I would swallow the humiliation and try to do my best. Anything to get away from the pain or the god awful dripping.  
The door opened and terror lanced through me shattering my brain in frozen panic. What do I do, how to I keep this paradise. God I'd do anything. The woman from yesterday entered the room with a grace that could only be practiced. Instantly I prayed that I would be able to stay. She seemed so safe, even yesterday, she had been so kind. As she entered the room she looked immediately down to my bed and I froze. The fear which had left me temporarily immediately returned as my brain ran through a million different options. Did I stand, sit, stay? What kind of pet was I? As all the thoughts went through my mind I didn't even realise she had approached my bed and come down to my level.  
"There's my prize winning mutt." Her green eyes seemed to bore into me as I pondered the statement. What prize was winning? Was I the prize? "Aw look at you so confused, so scared. Don't worry I understand." She began to pet me and I, hesitantly, pushed into the comfort. My eyes glazed over. How long had it been since I had felt another humans touch without pain. It seemed like forever. I wish this would go on forever. It stopped all too soon. "Well now aren't you responsive." She said stopping her petting and smiling at me. "Win or lose you are going to quite the golden egg. I can't believe Bernard almost didn't want you." She sounded quite amused and I couldn't be happier. Anything to keep this going.  
"Now," her voice took on a sharp cold edge and her hand which had been stroking my hair immediately clenched. I felt tears threaten as my scalp cried out in pain. "Ground rules. We are unable to train you until the auction but that doesn't mean punishment isn't an option." My blood turned cold, at this new development. I didn't like this change. "You are here to make me money and a lot of it. That means you will perform to the best of your capabilities." Preform what did that mean? Was I a show dog. The thought made me cringe in humiliation. "O yes," She laughed cruely. "You will preform or the consequences will be worse than you can possibly imagine. You think those men could hurt you. Rank amateurs I assure you. There are so many ways to mutilate that only increase your value."  
Fear turned my stomach. "Yes anyth- anything. I'll do anything. Please." I begged as her hand increased it's pressure on my scalp. Terror was running through me now. I began to tremble. God I hated what I had become.  
"Good." She released her grip and began to pet me. Slowly the trembling stopped but the horror remained. God how did I please her.  
"Please how...what do you want me to do" I struggled with the words. It had been quite a while since I had talked and my voice was still broken and rough from screaming.  
"Your so talkative now," She slapped me immediately. Pain which I now considered minor fired through my face. It hurt worse to disappoint her. "You will speak only when spoken to." She slapped me again. "You will never look your betters in eyes.” I stared at her my heart hurting worse than my face. Why, she had been so kind before. SLAP. “That means NOW!” I averted my gaze to the floor. Bitch.  
She sighed. “Well you learn, albeit slowly. Come on.” She yanked my hair dragging me out of the dog bed. I struggled to keep up trying to get to my feet, but she kept pushing me to the floor. Blushing furiously I crawled into the pain. We exited the room into a lavish cordor. The previous thought that I was in a fancy hotel increase as we walked by candlers and beautiful paintings that-SLAP. “I said head down!”  
But but she hadn’t! It was so unfair I hadn’t looked at her, why couldn’t she just be clear. I just wanted to stop the pain, the humiliation. Tears leaked down my face as they so often did now days. The last time I had cried before these events had been when my dog died. Before that I couldn’t even remember. But now a simple slap and some harsh words broke me into a 14 year old girl. God I hated myself.  
She let go of my hair confident I would follow. Following her stilettos I found myself being mesmerized by the carpet, I saw intricate designs made of gold and red. Swirls and beautiful designs that I couldn't even dream of covered every inch. This place must cost a fortune to stay at. I thought back to my student days. Ramen and peanut butter, sleeping on a shit mattress while I tried to pay off loans with old school books and a part time job. The journey ended all to soon as the shoes stopped in front of me. So lost in my thoughts I almost ran into her. Almost.  
She knocked on the door. “Open up, I brought our contender”, She sang. Six words sang and already my ears bled. Ulg somebody tell this bitch she can’t sing please.  
“Jesus Crystal.” Holy shit it had a name, “How many times do I have to say it. You sound like a cat being tortured.” Keeping my head low I grinned for the first time since my capture. Crystal scoffed and the door opened. Bernard stood on the other end and immediately my grin went away. I stood there on all fours and watched as he glared down at me.  
“I thought you said you would give him the rules.” His voice cold as ice. I should have seen the slap coming, stupid. SLAP. I quickly put my head down again.  
“Maybe you don’t learn quickly.” My face felt like fire now but at least I wasn’t crying. Baby steps, baby steps.  
“I told him the rules we agreed on, so what now? The cameras just keep watching until he goes on stage?” Cameras? I fought the unbelievably strong urge to look up in search of cameras. Why!? I didn’t want people seeing me like this. Immediately I felt stupid. When did I have a choice in anything nowadays.  
“Pretty much,” He sighed. “We have enough time to get him to makeup, clear up some of this..” Disgust filled his voice. “Whatever it is. Then it's off to the game.” My mind spun trying to understand what was going on. Apparently the rules given to me were apart of the game, and it had to do with a stage. I was to be in front of an audience? What was I doing? I didn’t dance or sing, well better than her, but I was no performer! What did they want from me!?  
Bernard walked out of his room while crystal followed back the way we came. Fearfully, and with no small amount of shame at my cowardice I followed keeping my now thrice slapped face to the floor. “So how do you think he’ll do?” Crystal asked worry apparent.  
“Not sure. He seems to understand the basic premise but I’ll try to see what more we can tell him before the games. I’ll go see our judge you take him to make up.” With that Bernards shiny black shoes took off in a different direction, while the pink stilettos carried on pace increasing. I hurried to keep up.

The makeup room had a tile floor, white and shiny. Hair covered bits of the floor like a hair salon and I wondered why a place like this was in a fancy hotel. Maybe it was like a spa for rich people. I crawled over the hair and felt some of it stick to me. I grimaced, I didn’t like the idea of getting other peoples hair on me. It felt wrong.  
“OOOH is this the kid?” A bubbly voice called out. I wasn’t a kid, I thought indignantly I turned 18 at least 3 months ago. Regardless it was hard not to like the voice. It sounded just like my mom’s voice used to sound. Fun happy, giddy and full of more energy than a 44 year old woman had any right to. Nostalgia tried to rear its ugly head and I crushed it mercilessly. Now was not the time.  
“Yep. We were running out of time so this was the best we could find. You’ve got quite the job ahead of you.” Another little dagger, she had said I was perfect before. One more lie I would have prefered to keep.  
“Oh don’t say that. He’s gorgeous, I’m sure he’ll fetch a handsome price. And just you wait when I’m done with him they’ll be bidding like no tomorrow.” NO NO NO. Sold again. I hadn’t even gotten used to this place yet. God I was worthless, even the people who bought me just wanted to sell me off. Did nobody want me? God! What am I thinking! I’m a human being not some animal. I shivered. For how much longer I wondered.  
The makeup went through without a hitch. The bubbly lady talked to me the entire time not really caring if I had anything to say in response. Desiring to keep my face with a little bit of its original color I decided against talking to her. Figuring Crystal wouldn’t like it. Crystal chimed in periodically. “Oh I like the color you used there. No, no, try to make him more feminine it works with his figure. Let's highlight some of the bruises and cover others. I tried to ignore it all and just take the pampering. It was kinda enjoyable having this lady fuss over me determine to make me look presentable.  
After the makeup session we walked down two flights of stairs to what I assumed was the basement. Stealing glances wherever I could I noticed several tables covering a wide venue. In the front was a long wooden stage clocked in a classic red velvet curtain. The tables were all full of people chatting excitedly. Crystal seemed to be in a hurry picking up the pace. I kept my head down as we headed for the back of the stage. Several people looked over at us chatting excitedly.  
“Think he’s one of them?” A man asked loudly obviously drunk.  
“Could be!” A lady answered “I can’t wait for it to begin.  
Crystal led me backstage where bernards shiny shoes awaited us. They tapped impatiently. “What took you so long.” Exasperation dripping from every syllable. “Hell half the guests are already drunk.”  
Crystal huffed. “Make up took longer than I thought. Look it doesn’t matter we made it. You wanna take a look?”  
“No time.” Bernard said hurried. “Look here,” He knelt down to my level and took my chin in hand. “ You are about to be apart of a game. We have given you two rules. The rest you must figure out for your own. Depending on how you do will determine how much you are worth. Do well and I’ll make sure you go to a good owner.” He gripped my chin harder, fingers digging into my jaw. I gasped. “Fail and I’ll make sure the rest of your very short life is spend in unbelievable agony. More than you can possibly comprehend.” I tried to keep my eyes lowered but green shards drew me in, terrifying in their ferocity. Sweat soaked my palms and my stomach sank as I looked the devil in the eyes. I nodded feverently.  
“Good,” He let go. I dropped my head down immediately. His voice lowered “Its a game of slaves. Who trains the best. Do what the others do.” He got up and I could feel his gaze drilling a hole through my head. “Anything less than fifth place is a loss in my mind. Do you understand?” I nodded again having no idea what that meant. Did the slaves race? Dance? What would we do on stage? More importantly why was he whispering as if this was a secret. Fear coursed through me as I tried to get a strategy to a game I didn’t understand. Better than fifth that was all I needed to keep in mind. 

 

 

 

Bastien Normic had just left his last meeting for the day and he was exhausted. All of those fucking idiots couldn’t keep the business running for a week without some form of assistance. Even more annoying they always needed more money from some stupid failing enterprise that they coordinated while he wasn’t looking. Bastien reminded himself to fire the leaders of this new enterprise as soon as it went through. Loosening his tie in a stretch limo Bastien relaxed for the first time that week. His Three piece suit still immaculate against all odds given the shit show of the day. Rolling his eyes at the memory of the young intern who had tried to seduce him, Bastien was reminded of his evening plans. A smile worked its way on his face and he eagerly began fantasising about the event. It had already been a year since the last slave auction and for the first time, he was determined to buy.  
Ever since he had been young Bastien had had a problem with power. The problem being he couldn’t seem to get enough. He had taken part in several consensual slave agreements before but nothing seemed to scratch the itch. Rules and guidelines, contracts upon contracts, forever new relationship tainted the experience. After several members of the local BDSM community had reported him for toeing or even crossing lines he had been ostracised and thoroughly annoyed. Every time a slave put something in the contract that they would do or wouldn’t it infuriated him. It was like a challenge to his authority. How dare they. They had agreed to give up power yet through this facade they seem to have more power than him. What he can do what he can’t. All of the pleasure for the lower party. No more.  
God, I can’t wait. Blood rushed through his system as dark and delicious thoughts and fantasies he had had for so long were about to be realized. Even better he had won the lottery to be apart of the opening event. Shivering in excitement he pictured his new slave kneeling in front of him desperate to please him in any way. No boundaries, restrictions, or fucking contracts. Soon.  
The day went by in a flurry as he obtained his new suit for the evening and began to prepare for the event. No expense had been barred, new shoes, hell even a new car just for the event. Showing any sort of weakness in front of the other guests would be like throwing chum for sharks during a feeding frenzy and for Bastien especially now, that was not an option. Other than this being a personal dream of his he also needed this to go well. Several of the men and women going to the event occupied some of the highest positions of wealth and power in the world. His companies and contracts had been going through a series of ups and downs and he desperately needed new contracts to keep everything flowing.  
His driver pulled up to the lavish hotel and the nerves faded away. This was why he was so good at what he did, why people all over the world wanted to be him but never could. When the chips were down and everything was on the line he was at his best. Nothing could stop him, he was invincible. The hotel lobby had been decked out with the most elaborate and most expensive luxuries from around the world. The smell alone took his breath away. It seemed to radiate so many different cultures and places yet none of it was displeasing. Looking around Bastien felt a grudging respect for the Carmite twins who were hosting the event. They must have been preparing for ages. He took another minute to admire the gorgeous chandelier that hung from the center of the lobby before heading down toward the action. It was time.  
The brightened room he entered was immaculately decorated. Scantily dressed slaves went from table to table serving appetizers while the world's richest and most powerful chatted away with their peers. From the beautiful candles to the delicate silverware everything was perfect. Bastien looked around and realized the crowd was not as big as last year's, but that was to be expected. The venue was slightly smaller and many of the larger companies of the past year had been absolved or even absorbed into greater monopolies. Bastien shuddered at the thought, his company was his and anyone who wanted it could pry it from his cold dead hands. He looked over at the full tables and grinned with ease. This was his element. Now it was time to get to work.  
After an hour of making connections, he noticed several slaves moving through to the back of the room where the stage was located. The excitement began to build as everyone started to realize what that meant. The opening game was about to start. Adrenaline rushed through Bastien’s system, he quickly excused himself from the beautiful lady he had been trying to get to buy stocks in his company and quickly made for his table. This was the main event and finally, he was apart of it. He quickly got to his table as the light faded to darkness and a spotlight lit up on center stage.  
In the center of the spotlight lay a beautiful Crystal Carmite, co-host of the event. Bastien grinned wondering where her twin was. As he watched she began.  
“Thank you, ladies and gentlemen for coming to our event. I know many of you look forward to this as one of the only times you get to socialize with your equals. I'm afraid the rest of the world just doesn’t understand.” She grinned knowingly while gentle laughter went through the room. “Tonight we have several courses, five star service, and of course everyone's favorite the worlds biggest slave auction. Many of the world's best trainers and masters have taken their time and effort to bring you the best from around the world. But first-” She paused whipping her blond curls behind her. “ What many of you have been waiting all year for...the opening game!”  
Bastien shook his head as applause ripped through the room and had to wonder at the amazing showmanship. She was a hell of a lot better than last years host. The energy in the room was ecstatic.  
Crystal's eyes narrowed at the crowd her grin turning feral. “You all know the rules. 9 slaves from some of the best masters and trainers in the world will be lead up here on stage for your entertainment. They will have been trained for 2 weeks, and while we all know it takes a while to perfect a slave you can get quite a bit done in a short time frame.” She wagged her sculpted eyebrows at the crowd to great amusement. “And of course it wouldn’t be a game without the norm. One person taken from whatever circumstances with no professional training whatsoever has been provided generously by your hosts.” She took a deep bow. “The Slave in question is given 2 rules and we may enforce them however we wish but we can obtain them no sooner 2 days before the event. They are given no help, pointers or gentle encouragement…” the audience chuckled. “We have had our referee constantly monitoring the situation and has deemed our applicant acceptable. Therefore without further adieu let me introduce our participants for this year.  
“Mark Indevio”, a man with a large barrel chest rose from his seat and made his way up the stage. The crowd gave a small applause as he took his place on the small circular stage that was set to the side of the larger one. One by one potential buyers who had won the lottery were brought up by name to the stage finally it was my turn. “Bastien Normic” She called out in her lovely soprano vocals. I rose from my seat and made my way to the stage. The stage light was bright and I could already feel the heat that it emminated but I ignored it grinning widely while I took my bow. 2 others were brought up to the stage to give the total the usual five members.  
“As you all know their will be several rounds with various rules that I will announce before each round. The winner will be the one to identify the- shall we say- soon to be slave?” Amusement went through the crowd again and she smiled winningly at us all. “For each round the norm remains the opening price will go up by 100,000 dollars. Starting as always at a measly 50,000 dollars,” she pouted at us. “Me and my dear co host hope our participant lasts slightly longer than that. And I have high hopes but who knows. “How keen is there insight ladies and gentlemen? Will the norm be found round 1, round 4? Place your bets the time is almost expired!”  
Bastien rolled his eyes. This was how the hosts made the most money every year and why everyone wanted to host the event. Everyone here had money to burn and most of them had gambling addictions. They would rake in more money from this than anything else. Including the very lucrative auction house fee.  
“Alright betting has closed. But don’t fret after every round the betting will be back open for another five minutes allowing you to continue the fun. Let's bring out the contestants!” Slowly the train of slaves came out. Some walking some crawling all demure and beautiful. Collars of elaborate designs and origins mixed with dull brown leather and gray metal. I looked on and immediately began studying the slaves. This is what I was waiting for. The excitement threatened to burst everything inside and I struggled to keep my composure. Oos and awws went through the crowd as all the slaves were led out. Some clothed in costumes others naked as the day they were born.  
Finally, 10 slaves took their places on the stage, various skin tones and body shapes but all gorgeous. Several of the slaves were covered in marks but only one stood out in that regard. A small pale boy covered head to toe in bruises his head firmly pointed toward the ground stood towards the middle of the line. I smiled inwardly, must be quite a fighter. Other than him only one more slave stood out to me, a thin slave toward the end with hair that seemed to drift all the way to the ground. Obviously male I knew he’d be a big taker. The crowd was already fixated on him. This was going to be quite the interesting opener I thought to myself.

Jacob  
Before I was led on a fine leather collar was attached to my neck and I wore it with misery. This only disheartened me more. With this the lines that separate me from an animal only blurred more. I listened as Crystal worked her magic on the crowd absorbing all the information I could while my mind raced with possibilities and plans. I needed to win this, or at the very least need to get past round five. With that goal in mind, I saw the slaves in front begin to be ushered on stage. I crawled after them following in suit. Ignoring my own humiliation I buried all the feelings that made me human and kept my eyes down. Thoughts of fight or flight were unproductive and would get me killed I reminded myself. Just get through this.  
We were led on stage and thankfully the stage lights blinded me from the rest of the room. My peripheral vision could only see shadows but I kept a close eye on the slave in front of me. I stopped a small equal distance away and waited as Crystal continued her monologue.  
“As you can see these are the best of the best, a little unfinished but that can easily be fixed and some say is the funniest part.” I wondered at the crowd that would laugh at such horrible words. I bit my lip and stifled my tears. Now was not the time. I focused on the slaves on either side of me I needed all the information I could get.  
“Now to begin round one. Round one is the most strict of rounds but fret not everything gets easier from here. Mark dear. You get a single request. There will be no touching this round nor any questions or answers. What would you like of the slaves?” I heard a deep baritone voice that seemed to carry call out, “Position”. What the hell did that mean?! “Excellent choice,” her words seemed confident and easy but she was obviously shaken up. “Very well starting from the left slaves...POSITION.”  
I heard a quick slap to my right and could sense a small amount of movement. Slowly it got closer and closer. I kept my peripheral eyes peeled. Finally 2 slaves away I saw the slave lower itself from its standing position into a subservient one. Hands clasped behind her back, her forehead gracefully touching the ground. Ah I understood. But were the same? I watched as the next slave went, to my utter terror the slave did something totally different from its sitting position it now was kneeling back straight and arms pointed outward held tightly at his sides. Shit. Fuck. I was going to have to make up something on the fly. Completely ignoring the finale slave before me my mind raced.

Bernard hissed in annoyance when he heard the baritone call out position. Sitting towards the back of the room where he could be called on to solve any ongoing problems of the evening he now felt frustration. Several of the audience around him gave him amused looks and took avid interest in the line realizing he must have made a mistake. A mistake indeed. Fuck, how had they not thought of that? It was slave one o one. Instead of teaching the slave basic fucking manners they should have made sure he at least had a position. The slave was going to bungle this thing round one. God damn it. They needed this. Hell, they needed everything they could get. The economy was going through a drought and unlike many of the monopolies in this room, the carmite’s were in jeopardy. With a sinking feeling, he watched as the slaves began getting into position. He saw his battered and abused entre towards the middle of the pack and wondered if there was any chance he’d make it. With resignation, he began going through the totals in his head of the gambling. With only the opening round they had still made major headway in the debt the family now owed but it wasn't going to be enough.

The slave to the right of me had finally taken his position. The various ideas fled and one firmly took place. Slowly I began to move.

Holy fucking shit. Bernard watched as the kid slowly almost gracefully sat back on his haunches, widened his legs giving a perfect view to the audience of his cock. His hands placed delicately on his legs face up he lifted his face to the crowd. Bernard held my breath, the kid's eyes never left the floor but now the audience could see his face. Slowly his head cocked to the side giving a beautiful view of a particularly vicious slap he had received at an earlier date. Bernard almost cheered. It wasn’t orthodox but damn was it impressive. Anyone here would believe that was a legitimate pose. Hell, it was arousing and submissive as hell. Kids a fucking genius he thought to himself.  
Bastien  
As the last slaves in line finished all eyes were on the slave in the middle. That was a pose that had never been seen before. Indeed the pose was beautifully elegant, I thought to myself among the other masters waiting for my turn. It showed all the bruises almost with pride as it also gave an impression of submission and subservience. I felt blood rush to my cock and I quickly adjusted myself while everyone's attention was on the stage. Whoever the kids master was he was good. Any master who brought innovation to the scene was someone to get to know. I couldn’t wait to meet them. Finally, Crystal began announcing the names to go up. Mark began and slowly walked through the slaves looking for faults in their positions and admiring the training.  
The Carmites had done well, I thought to myself with a grin. Mark looked perfectly flustered. Hell, I was too. All of the positions looked perfect. None of the slaves moved an inch. It probably wouldn’t stay as a few of the slaves in the line were taking some very strenuous poses but for the moment the game seemed impossible. Zero leads and I’m not going to lie going for position as the first round was a powerhouse. Many looked down on it due to the fact it could end the game quickly, but not this year. After Mark the next buyer went and had equally no success, that much was evident by his scowl.  
Finally, it was my turn. I walked up to the stage leisurely and decided instead of trying to monitor everything I would just enjoy the beauty this round. I went from slave to slave silently admiring the dedication that only 2 weeks could bring. I couldn’t imagine that just a couple of weeks ago these demure obedient little things had been free. I stopped at the boy with the bruises frowning slightly at the handywork. The bruises covered him, their placement didn’t seem to have any coordination or purpose. In fact, several of the bruises were over places that seemed vital, not a good strategy when trying to sell your product. This seemed like the work of an amateur yet the position was so innovative and fresh. Bastien left the line completely intrigued in fact it wasn’t until he was back in line with the rest in line that he realised he had never looked at the rest of the slaves in line. Irritably he tried to get a look at the slave with the beautiful long hair before the round finished.  
“Alright and that concludes round 1.” Carmite seemed flushed and excited as well as she might I thought amused. I doubt anyone in the audience had a clue to which one was the norm. I shook my head and waited. “Mark which one is your guess,” she beamed at him while he scowled. Stroking the stubble on his face he looked across the line again. One of the slaves began shaking, a beautiful ebony girl in a difficult yoga-like pose had reached the end of her endurance. Normally this was no problem and the crowd would watch in amusement as the slave collapsed and was slowly brought into a sitting position for the rest of the game. However with no other indicators in the line.  
“I’ll chose her.” Mark spoke with resignation. It was a shot in the dark but maybe. With her poor muscle strength maybe that was an indication that she was the one. After all, slaves were trained to hold even difficult positions for long lengths of time but it had only been 2 weeks training at max. I watched on with fascination. A slow drum roll began in the background and I chuckled rolling my eyes at the carmites cheesiness.  
“I’m sorry Mark. The ebony beauty was incorrect!” she seemed extra excited. She began reading from a card, “This beaut comes all the way from Nicaragua from master Carlos Miles. Mr Miles stand up please and collect your slave.” A man from the audience stood up and the spotlight ran to him. The man was fuming. Rage seemed to roll off him as he began toward the stage. The girl had now collapsed and upon seeing him began crying and had to be quickly restrained by the stagehands. I wanted to look away in sympathy. If no one purchased her she was in for hell. That was for sure.  
The man dragged the girl off the stage by her hair. Wincing I looked away as she screamed. Several members of the audience laughed and I wondered at the pointless abuse. The slave had done nothing wrong. The master had obviously picked a very strenuous position and it was just his luck that there were no other indicators at all from the other slaves on stage. She screamed the entire way out of the room and I knew with certainty there would be new marks on her before the auction.  
Crystal was completely unfazed in fact she seemed even happier after the display. “ Now onto round 2! Don’t forget to place your bets between rounds. Anyone can be a winner!” She beamed out at the audience as if they would all rush to the small betting booth in the back immediately. She continued, “round 2 will be a question round with small physical touch allowed. Tritemen, What would you like to give as your question to the slaves?” I looked with avid interest, Tritemen had been to several events before and was known as a real sadist. Without physicality to rely on what would be his question?  
“I would like to know their names.” He spoke with a decidedly soft voice. Dangerously soft I reminded myself. Remembering the horror stories I had heard about the man. An excellent question all things considered. Every trainer worth their salt named their slaves when they got them. Surely the Carmites wouldn’t have thought of that. Hell, they weren’t even trainers just the hosts of the event.  
Sure enough, Crystal once again seemed flustered as she continued on, “An excellent question. Excellent question indeed. Well, ladies and gentlemen how about we start from the left side this time? Would you like to ask the question yourself or would you like the stagehand to do it?” Looking decidedly pleased with himself Tritemen said he would deliver the questions and made his way on stage. One of the stagehands gave him a microphone and he started on the right-hand side with the slaves.  
Leaning down to the tan, dark haired boy who couldn’t be older than 14 he asked softly, “Whats your name?”  
The boy licked his lips before answering even more softly, “Perro”.  
Tritemen looked at the stagehand in confusion and the man quickly headed over. Grabbing the microphone. “ I believe it means dog in spanish.” Amusement rushed through the crowd. Even Tritemen chuckled before moving on. Stopping at the girl next in line he grabbed her chin pulling her face up. Obviously enjoying his turn he admired the pale blond with the cheesy pigtails. She had been dressed in a skimpy cheerleading outfit that left nothing to the imagination. Tritemen was obviously enamoured.  
“What's your name gorgeous?”, Tritemen gently held the microphone to her face as the girl began to shake in fear.  
Brokenly she spoke, “Star”. The audience ooed and awed at that one. What a cheesy classic I thought to myself. Fit her perfectly. A young girl who wanted to be popular. I rolled my eyes at the masters antics. She began to cry but Tritemen moved on uncaring. On they went names went from degrading to surprisingly normal until they reached the marked boy.  
My interest piqued. I looked on and waited on the edge of my seat as tritemen pulled the boys head up by the hair so his face was skyward. The boys eyes remained determinedly down trying to reach the ground and once again I had to applaud his trainer. So many overlooked little details especially in this event. Many just tried to shove as much into the slave as they could in 2 weeks. I was nice to see that details matter.  
Tritemen pressed against the bruise and I hissed. The other buyers to my sides looked at me confused and I shrugged trying to look indifferent. When had I gotten so into this? The boy made no noise at the obvious pain but continued to remain where he was seemingly with infinite patience. “What’s your name?” Tritemen sounded bored but everyone knew that was just an act. Tritemen was a sadist to the core seeing such obvious abuse had to be arousing for him. The crowd and I waited impatiently for his answer.  
Jacob  
Feeling my face throb I listened to all the names coming down the line. More worried about the small cries of pain that seemed to be coming from some of the slaves, than coming up with a decent name. I had heard small physical touch was allowed but if they were crying out already what would it be like when large physical touch was allowed. Just don’t think about it I chastised myself. Slowly the man made his way to me. When he reached me I realised with a panic that I hadn’t thought of a name. I had been in a daze. SHIT. I tried remembering all the previous names but all I could remember was the stagehand saying dog in the microphone and wanting to kill the audience. Think! Hands pulled at my hair and a hand dug gently into my bruise. I was concentrating so hard I barely even noticed. Keeping my eyes on the ground my mind raced.  
“What’s your name?’

 

Crystal watched from her venue towards the front with agitation. None of the names so far had sounded completely normal. She bit her lip wondering what the boy would say. He had done so well with the pose but this was different. A name was something everyone was given it was only natural to use your own unless another was given to you. Hell, now that she thought of it she couldn’t even remember the kids name, Jackson? Jeremy? Fuck she thought to herself anything like that would be a dead giveaway. She leaned in as Tritemen asked his question and put the microphone in front of the boy.  
The boy answered just as softly as the other slaves. “Worthless”. Crystal laughed out loud while the audience gasped. It was too perfect. Holy shit. They should have kept this kid. She couldn’t imagine a better answer. Laughter continued to roll over her and several members of the audience as Tritemen looked around at the audience and gave a small golf clap of appreciation for the kid's owner. A small gesture of well played. He let go of the boy and moved on.  
Bernard’s original excitement began to pale. The kid could have said anything. ANYTHING and he might have passed this round. He looked around nervously as the crowd applauded obviously roused more than usual. Crystal, stupid cow was laughing uproariously at the kids response. The kid was playing the part too well. If this kept up nobody would believe they got the kid with zero training, videos or no videos. No norm had ever made it past round 6. They’d claim fraud and him and his sister would be on the chopping block. He could feel the imaginary noose beginning to settle and regretted motivating the kid how he had. As it was, no one even considered he was the norm. This was dangerous. He could win.

Bastien heard Worthless like everyone else but for some reason he couldn’t laugh with the others. Hearing the name and seeing the bruises all of it seemed to hit home. Holy shit he thought. This kids halfway broken in just 2 weeks. Bastien felt the unfamiliar feeling of his heart sinking as he wondered how much was left inside the pale beauty. Often slaves were broken for the ease of new owners. It was rare to see any slave broken so soon though. His eyes ran over the slave pity ran through him, the slave must have had a weak spirit. Shaking his head at the way some people treat their property he took a deep breath and watched as Tritemen moved on.

Tritemen moved on throughout the slaves and while Bastien was still in shock he managed to rouse himself when the man reached ‘long hair’. Beautiful brownish auburn hair spilled around his face creating a mysterious curtain to the audience. His pose, stool, usually seen as poor choice in the competition due to the lack of vision on the slave seemed to come to life through the slave. The audience could see the wealts toward the top of the slaves back, a fantastic choice from his master Bastien thought. Wondering how long it must have taken the newly made slave to grow out his hair, everyone heard a shrill cry. Startled Bastien realized, tritemen must have stepped on one of the boys fingers as he stopped. Tritemen couldn’t even try to look remorseful which only amused the crowd further. Crystal began berating him and spelling out the rules but was hopelessly ignored by the sadist. Bastien shook his head and ignoring the obvious cheat he finally heard the name he was waiting for. Flame. Huh well they couldn’t all be creative. The kid was shaking on the stage and while the audience had been amused by Tritemens antics the other competitors were not. Scowls and disgust greeted him as he made his way back from the slaves. Distantly bastien heard crystal reminding them they were allowed on stage before the end of the round. All of the other competitors declined but Bastien wanted another look. 

Relief was the first thing I felt after I had said the name worthless. Followed swiftly by an empty sinking feeling in my heart. Numbness crept up face as memories threatened to break loose. Worthless, how many times had I been called that in my life. I could feel the imaginary dagger punch slowly through my chest as depression finally started setting in. Memories of my father throwing furniture flew through my mind as my mothers screams provided the background music to the scenes. Suddenly I was ten hearing that worth echo in my ears as I looked down, my fathers broken shattered bottle under my feet. Blood flowed freely as my father loomed over me, my mother’s screaming long since stopped, the weekly thump of her head as it hit the wall. Hilarious foster homes had been marginally worse over the next eight years. Further I sank through the memories only distantly realizing that once again the sound of fancy shoes clacked on the hardwood stage. I clawed my way out of the memories to feel my body shaking, tears on my face gravitate lower on my face. No! I thought to myself, they would know. Fear raced through me as survival instincts came back online. I was fucking it up. FUCK. A shiver raced down my spine as screams echoed in my mind. I recognized the spiral but there was nothing I could do, my trembling increased as a man walked forward. 

 

Bastien

I walked quickly to the stage wanting to waste little time, the audience was already getting bored of the round and were excited for the next.Slowly more and more physical touch would be allowed and pain intoxicated them. Slowing down my pace as I took my first steps on stage I noticed something amusing indeed. Several of the slaves were now trembling due to the stressful poses of stage 1. Chuckling to myself I made my way down the line wondering how long they would last. This was why it was not encouraged to pick a stressful pose for the slaves, and yet every year two or three masters did it anyway. Showing signs of weakness would only make the audience and the contestants take notice and if no other big fault was to be found they would be the first to go. I rolled my eyes as the third slave in line collapsed in a heap.  
Moving on I saw the tug on my heart. Worthless sat there in his pose shaking like a leaf, tears running down his face. But why the pose wasn’t over difficult or painful. Startled I looked back at my competitors but they didn’t seem to notice. They were talking among themselves probably debating filing a complaint about Tritemens obvious disdain for the rules. I walked over quickly curiosity and a desire to keep my discovery hidden adding wings to my feet. Standing over him I wondered at the behavior. So far the slave had been in control, the fantastic pose the name, watch had triggered the breakdown. Looking back through the events I found I couldn’t think of a single thing. By now he should have gotten over the shock of being a slave. Suddenly I wondered. Who had trained this one? Thinking through the trainers I knew I couldn’t think of any of them that would fit the bill. To be fair there had only been two rounds but something wasn’t adding up. The boy was obviously marked, had a wonderfully innovative pose, and a degrading name. The marks showed a lack of care and possibly intelligence as it could lead the audience to think the boy was the norm and had put up a fight. The pose showed intelligence and creativity in direct contrast to the marks. The name was a normal sadistic thing to do but didn’t add up with the collar. 

 

I realized that the boys breathing had increased in tempo. In fact it sounded like he was about to start hyperventilation. Shit. Causing a scene would only make them notice. I began moving on breathing a small sigh of relief when the boys breathing decreased back to normal. He even seemed to have stopped shaking. I walked on lost in my thoughts even forgetting to stop by Flame in the process. Making my way back to the competitors stage I couldn’t stop wonder who could have trained him. Could he be the norm? The idea seemed ridiculous but... Shaking my head I made my way back a Crystal began speaking.  
Crystal irritation seemed to be completely gone.  
“Ok Tritemen”, a gleaming smile for the crowd. “Do you have a decision?” Tritemen who had seemed until this moment generally amused at the anger of his peers, suddenly lost his good nature. Irritation crossed his face.  
“I would like to abstain.” his soft voice now inflected with anger. Oh this was new. Abstaining in the competition meant that you were allowed to wait until after each of the other five competitors had guess and then take your own guess. It gave you more time but there were several limitations and prerequisites. The most important for Tritemen being the fact that the other competitors, that he had pissed of, and that had yet to go needed to agree to allow him to abstain. Several of other competitors including myself grinned. Rage crossed Tritemen’s face and he began to swell. Here it comes…  
“You all know what it means to anger me.” His soft voice never seemed so dangerous. He looked at the rest of the competitors staring us down. To our credit not one of us flinched. Hell we even cept our smiles. We knew his reputation. The man was a killer, torturor, demon in human skin. But hell so were we all. We all had power, money, influence this man couldn’t intimidate us like he could his slaves.  
“As you know Tritemen you will have to get the agreement of the majority of the remaining contestants before you are allowed to abstain.” Crystal seemed to be as amused as the rest of us and the crowd agreed and laughter rolled through the audience. “All in favor of allowing Tritemen to abstain?” Not a single had went up. “All opposed?” The three of us remaining raised our hands. Rage crossed Tritemens face. Hilarious instant fucking karma I thought to myself, God I wish we could record this. “Well that solves that. Tritemen your choice?”  
Tritemen’s face grew red, sputtering, “I choose the first.” Not even looking toward his choice he looked murder on all of us. “You will all-”  
“I’m sorry Mr. Tritemen that is incorrect. Will the owner of the first slave please step forward” The owner stepped forward and led the slave, a cute hispanic girl away. Neither seemed upset or angry. Perhaps they never expected to win or knew that his choice had been completely guess. The girl had done nothing wrong and for once it looked like the owner knew that. I was happy to think she would not be punished for no reason. “ Next up would be Roel Green.” The heaviest man in the pool of contestants stepped forward. How would you like to determine the norm. Remember every round more and more contact is acceptable and allowed. This round in particular small amounts of pain, however you may choose any method you wish to figure it out.”  
Roel looked on the slaves with determination. “


	2. Cracks

Jacob

I was losing my mind trying to understand what was going on. The man was walking back and forth past me as he whispered to the other slaves. I tried to pay close attention but the responses never seemed to be the same. The crowd confused me further sometimes roaring in approval, remaining quiet, or simply applauding respectfully. How the hell was I supposed to know what was going on. Anxiety began to roll through me, my stomach clenched and my vision swam as i tried to regain control. I couldn't prepare I had no time. The mans shoes stopped in front of me. Time stopped as I stared at my distorted reflection in his black polished shoes. My muscles were now ridged in my position and they began to shake from the rigidity.   
The man leaned down slowly. Maybe he would be nice I tried to convince my panicked brain. Please please be nice! The man's hand rushed gently through my hair, after a brief moment my muscles began to relax as I swayed slightly to the motion. Thank god- suddenly his long fingers gripped my hair and with a rush of motion I felt myself being pulled out of my improvised position. Shock kept the pain from registering until my face was smashed into the floor. I cried out, pain shock and sudden fear overwhelming my brains orders to be silent. My body so relaxed a second ago was now taunt as the man leaned down to my ear, in my confusion I looked at his face. Utter disdain and contempt filled my world. Despair sank into my bones as my heart dropped.   
A voice colder than I could ever imagine whispered into my ear, “Who could ever love trash like you. This is where you belong. You don’t deserve a place in this world. You should never have been brought into it.” The fingers on my hair smashed down harder on my head but I didn’t feel it. The words brought back everything I hated and tried to forget. I could feel my fathers fist crashing into my ribs, the feeling of the wall as I slammed into it. Several tears fell down my face before everything began to shut down. Don’t let him see, it wont hurt as much if you don’t fight back. Mother will be fine, he will hit you a few times then go off for another beer. My body began to relax to the floor my head dropping limply.  
I stared aimlessly into nothing the hand still on my hair, tears dropping horizontally off my face in utter silence. A loud whistle came from nowhere followed by quiet applause. The words rang endlistly in my head and I wondered how long I would have to hear them before they became another scar on my mangled heart. From somewhere else I felt the hand leave my head and a gentle touch bring me up from the ground. My body now in a new position I felt my head being lifted up to meet the gaze of a stranger. The eyes of ice blue looked into mine with confusion. A frown appeared and he looked to the left and right almost as if lost. I wished I could help him. I hated being lost. It made me feel so very stupid.  
The man pushed my head down and I watched as the feet slowly left my vision. I wondered where they went. Maybe down a lush carpet of an evening in the finest hotels, or maybe they would tread down hollywood to mingle with the shoes of actors and actresses. I felt a small sad smile come to my face as I tried to imagine them breaking the sand of the beach, my favorite place in the world. That absurd fantasy kept me occupied until a familiar voice rang out dragging me from my daze. 

 

Bastien

It wasn’t fair I thought unable to help the smile on my face as I watched him go down the line. The man was a predator of the most terrifying kind. He stalked his helpless prey taunting thema and the audience both. We all loved it. With no idea what was being said or even the faintest idea of how he did it we all watched with rapt attention as slave after slave broke. Some cried, some struggled, some you could only tell my the drop of their shoulders or a strangled cry of a broken soul. Every slave received some time as he studied them, doublessly absorbing information on their posture their body, understanding their story before breaking them down with a few simple words and a delicate touch. As the show continued I realized he only had one slave left. Worthless, my slave. I blinked, when had I started thinking of him as my slave? I shook my head ignoring the thought as I watched entranced my excitement building. What would he do?   
He stopped before Worthless. Giving him the same time as the others, I bite my lip in anticipation. He begins to stroke his head and I wait to see him whisper words that will break the pale beauty into malleable shards. Jealousy starts to rage up but I crush it just in time to see him grab the slave and slam his head into the floor. There was a loud crack, and the boy cries sound so desperate so raw. Horror crosses my features, what is he doing? All of the other slaves received such gentle treatment. Why mine! Irritation comes at the thought, he isn’t my slave I chide myself. I push down the anger but am still so desperate to hear what he is saying in the boys ear. I lean forward hoping I could catch something, but it is an exercise in futility. How could I hear something across the room that is barely being whispered.   
I watch as the fear in the boys face drops and tears run down his face. The light seems to go out of eyes and his head slowly, limply slides down against the floor. The fight gone. Rage fights admiration. Even when I don’t understand it he knows how each slave ticks. He knew the right thing to say, to do. Yet irrational anger follows as I can’t help but feel like something of mine has been damaged, some unknown unspoken of boundary crossed. Fuck. I had it bad. I looked down the line and realized I needed to admit it. I wanted him. Fuck I wanted him bad. Buring the anger I breathed a deep breath and smiled. I would have him. The lithe, pale little beauty would be mine and no one but me would ever lay their hands on him again.   
Satisfied I brought my attention back to the stage where Roel had slowly lifted my soon to be slaves head and looked into his eyes. He looked left and right down the line and suddenly something seemed off. His posture, no his demeanor? What was it. Somehow just a second ago he radiated confidence and now that was gone. And I couldn’t even figure out how I knew. I wasn’t the only one. The audience had gone silent sensing the same thing I did. Roel didn't know the answer. He had broken every slave but somehow didn’t get the information he wanted. What was happening?   
Slowly he walked off the stage, I strained to get a look of his face and was reward by seeing a dark puzzled look. His irritation at not solving the puzzle showing on his face. I shivered, the man was not known for leaving things incomplete. He would go to almost absurd lengths to finish a simple task. Still shaking off the feeling. The game was still on.   
Crystals voice began shaky but grew with confidence. “Well Master Green, that was quite the performance. I only wish it could have gone on longer.” The words sounded so insincere but every one of them rang with truth. “Do you have a decision?” She asked politely.  
Roel looked at the line his anger fading as suddenly he smiled. “I do not.” Grinning his eyes went down the line. “A delightful game. I do not know the norm therefore I give up my guess.”   
Crystal was obviously startled. “Does that mean you wish to abstain to a later round?”  
Roel was already shaking his head. “No, I will give up my guess, this has become most exciting.”   
“But-”. Crystal shook her head. “If you’re sure.” As she sounded anything but. “We will move on the next round.” Shaking her head as if to ward off the conversation. “Alrighty well ladies and gentlemen it looks like we are going on to round 3!”  
The crowd who had been silent and, if they were anything like me in uttur confusion, picked up their cue and began to applaud slowing gaining momentum until energy was back to an acceptable level.   
“Ladies and Gentlemen may I introduce someone many of you may know very well. Mr. Stone!” There was several bits of polite laughter as many people raised their drinks in his direction. The Tall and lanky man laughed along with the others giving generous bows. “Mr. Stone is well known among the community for being one of the most talented individuals in the world.” Many of the audience began rolling their eyes. It was well known that Crystal had been after Lucia stone for years. This long introduction was just another sad attempt to get something she wanted but just couldn’t have. “Mr. Stone what would you like for your round?” She smiled dazzlingly at him.   
Devastatingly handsome the man looked up at crystal and put on a smile that would melt hearts. A true actor and entertainer he gave as good as he got. “I want to see their talent. What makes them unique.” The audience whispered among themselves in confusion. How would that help him find the slave? What would the slaves do. This was unprecedented. People didn’t usually pick humans to kidnap and become slaves based on skills, hell most of the time it had to do with looks, face value, or grudges and darker desires. Still I had to admit even on a new stage and in front of a different audience the man managed to entertain.   
Crystal poor girl couldn’t catch a break I almost felt sorry for her as she started to stutter again. “Very well we can ask the slaves what they do. But what-” She looked off to the audience her hands out in front as if asking for help. Quickly she got herself together. “What if they have a skill that can’t be displayed in front of us? Drawing? Or a musical instrument perhaps?”  
The man stood unshaken. “That will be fine I will simply question them about it. If i’m to purchase one of these slaves I would prefer to pick based on something more than face value. Looks only mean so much.” He looked at her pointedly. I held in a chuckle but others in the audience were not so restained. Several of them laughed out loud in the face of a glaring and furious Crystal. I wondered if she regretted serving so much booze now. 

Jacob

Crystal had woken me up from the daze but I wish she hadn’t. The echoes of what the man said still rang in my ears threatening to send me back into limbo. My head pounded and ached and for some reason the floor seemed to moving. I clenched my hands my nails cutting slightly into my hands and my world slowly came back into focus. I heard Crystal introduce the next contestant. God I just had to get through this. There would be an opening for escape. No prison was perfect. But now was not the time. Hundreds of eyes watched every move. My mind raced as it tried to understand the next round. The new man walking up the stage had wanted special talent. What the hell did that even mean? Were we supposed to dance? Sing on stage? What the hell was I going to do?   
The man headed up to the stage and disappeared to my left. Shaking my head slightly I tasted copper. I touched my tongue to the side of my cheek and realized that I had ripped open part of my cheek. It must have happened when the man slammed my head into the floor. Ignoring the pain I tried to get a view of what the other slaves were doing. The man was saying something but the people in the front row were so loud I couldn’t hear. The crowd was getting excited. A deep groan came from my left and the audience laughed. Suddenly they roared in approval and applause that seemed to last forever vibrated in my ears. I guess the other competitors were ready for this. But what could I do I had nothing on me. Nothing to use. Wait no! Suddenly I had an idea. 

Bastien 

You had to give it to the man, Stone was a genius. The rules dictated you couldn’t get the slaves to do sexual act until later rounds but he found a way around it. After walking up to the first slave, a beautiful brunette he asked her to show him her talent. After a brief pause she gracefully got out of her position and began undoing his belt. The audience began laughing almost immediately and it only got worse when the devil turned around to give us a shit eating grin. He had planned this all along. I shook my head, chuckling to myself. Knowing that the slave would probably be found before the later rounds this insufferable jackass found a way to get himself off anyway. The girl wrapped her beautiful lips around his cock and began slowly moving her head up and down. I heard several of the audience member near me making drunken side bets about duration much to my own amusement. The girl began picking up pace, Stone let out a groan as he swiftly pulled out and jacked himself to completion. The slaves chest now covered in his seed Stone turned slightly to the audience and offered a slight bow. In layman's terms the crowd lost its shit. A chorus of different reactions were going on at the same time. Some were disgusted while others laughed uproariously. Damn the man could work a crowd. Whether you liked him or hated him, he was always and without fail entertaining.  
Stone put his pants back up and moved on to the next contestant. This slave decided his talent came with kissing. The boy worked his way up the mans collar bones giving every inch the attention it deserved. By the time he had reached Stones lips the lust in the room was thick enough to see. How had this been more arousing that a blowjob? After a very impressive makeout session that had many of the guests reaching over to begin abusing the staff, Stone let out a contented sigh and patted the boys head.   
“That was wonderful. I can’t imagine how proud your master must be right now.” The boy turned slightly pink, giving the audience something to chuckle at while he expressed his gratitude. We couldn’t hear the words the boy said but Stone simply nodded and moved on. The next slave was quite the disappointment. Stone asked her the same question as the others and she began kissing Stones shoes. I shrugged they were only given little bits of training, and not all of the trainers spent time working on sexual gratification. Most given a time limit would work on breaking the slaves down and making sure they wouldn't’ embarrass them on stage by breaking position or speaking out of turn. That certainly backfired today, i thought to myself as my of the crowd began to boo and jeer at the young girl. Even Stone snorted in disgust before moving on. I held my breath. Worthless was next.


End file.
